


Snow Fall

by GrizzlyBear1710



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: 7DaysofClexa, Alternate Canon, Candles, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Clexmas20, F/F, day3, it's the most wonderful time of the year
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-23
Updated: 2020-12-23
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:07:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28268115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GrizzlyBear1710/pseuds/GrizzlyBear1710
Summary: It's the Skaikru's first December on the ground and in Lexa's alliance of the 13 Klans, so there are a few things they don't know: 1 - It snows quite heavily in Polis; 2 - Lexa and the ambassadors get nearly all of December off-duty; and 3 - The Nightbloods are practically Lexa's adopted children.There are no wars, no death, and just some December fluff between Clarke and Lexa in the lead up to Christmas.
Relationships: Clarke Griffin & Lexa, Clarke Griffin/Lexa
Comments: 6
Kudos: 105





	Snow Fall

**Author's Note:**

> This is the only story I've written for Clexmas this year because I have been snowed under with Uni work and moving house! It is set in Canon, but before any of the bad stuff happened... Skaikru are now fine, so there was no need for Clarke to return to her people, so she has decided to remain in Polis under Lexa's protection. It's my fanfic so I make the rules;D Hope you enjoy it!

Clarke couldn’t believe her eyes. Of course, she’d heard all the stories on the Ark about the white flakes that fall when it gets cold, but she was not expecting _this_. They started gradually floating down to the ground, gently touching it for a few seconds, before melting into a tiny puddle. Transfixed, she stood at the door to Polis tower, watched by guards, as the snowflakes fell. After a short while, they started falling more rapidly. She’d never seen anything like it before. There had been pictures of times long ago when it had snowed in December, but none of them had done the real thing justice. It didn’t take long for the snow to start sticking and thickening, covering surfaces like a veiled, white blanket. Admittedly, Clarke had to wait until other Grounders stepped out onto it, too afraid of what the nature here might be capable of after the acid fog fiasco. Once she was satisfied that it wasn’t going to blow her feet off, she turned her attention to another member of Skaikru in Polis.

Kane was stood beside Indra, sheltered beneath one of the market stalls. He had been a frequent visitor of all the stalls, taking time to stop and chat to all the locals, learning Trigedasleng better than Clarke herself. He watched in amazement as the snowflakes swayed in the breeze down to the ground, his eyes shifting from staring at the sky to staring at the floor. With a grin on her face, Indra watched on with amusement. He was like a child who had never experienced something before. To her, snow was nothing more than an obstacle, an inconvenience. But upon seeing the expressions of wonder on the newcomers’ faces, she couldn’t help but feel a childlike appreciation of the snow reignite in her bones.

By outstretching her palm to let some flakes drop into her hand, she showed Kane that it was nothing to fear. Slowly but surely, Kane copied her motions, breaking into a childish beam as the snowflakes tickled his skin. Indra couldn’t help but laugh, acknowledging that it was the first time she’d laughed in a long time. The sound seemed foreign even to her. Kane looked up with wide eyes, hardly believing that the stoic warrior had cracked a smile, never mind let out a laugh. It only caused his eyes to twinkle as he too joined in with a small chuckle. He encouraged Indra to take a step further into the snowfall, reaching both of his arms out. With apt interest, he watched one of the Grounder children stick his tongue out to catch a few in his mouth. Reluctantly, he followed suit. The sensation of a solid trickling to a liquid on his tongue caused him to belly-laugh. For years, everyone on the Ark had only ever dreamt of experiencing sunlight on their bare skin, or refreshing rain beating down. Imagining snowfall had been a pipe dream. Yet here they were, spinning around as the flakes dropped onto their eyebrows, lips, faces, and bodies. He was wondering how the others from the Ark were dealing with this. As this thought crossed his mind, he turned, spotting Clarke in her usual place inside the tower doors and made his way over with a spring in his step.

“Clarke! Can you believe…?” he trailed off when he got there. Truthfully, he didn’t have the words to express what was going on or how he was feeling. Nearly every day he woke up on the ground, he felt some sort of numinous experience, like this was all a dream he’d eventually wake up from. One day, he’d open his eyes and be surrounded by the grey walls, boxing him in until the end of his days. Bewildered was the only word he could think to describe his state. Complete bewilderment.

The blonde in front of him was wearing a smile. It was small and didn’t yet reach her eyes, but it was more than he’d seen from her previously. The pressure of being the Ambassador for Skaikru had been taking its toll on her, especially with uprisings from Pike and his lackeys. Thankfully, that small debacle was over – just in time for December. Kane couldn’t help but think that the young woman needed a break. She needed to relax.

“I know!” Clarke replied. She took a few seconds to really look around at the snowfall in front of her. “It’s magical. Nothing like the pictures,” she continued. Nodding along, Kane pulled his smile wider, hoping to coax a similar one from Clarke. Unfortunately, maybe the memory of a potential war was too fresh in her mind to get her smiling just yet.

“Absolutely nothing like the pictures! Come on!” said Kane. He offered her his hand. Unsurely, she glanced at it, and – for a minute – he was convinced she was going to reject his offer, turn around, and return to her room. But she slipped her hand into his and followed him out into the snow.

It didn’t take long for Clarke to truly appreciate the beauty of snow. In no time at all, she had forgotten about all the meetings and duties as Ambassador as she twirled around with Kane – despite them both being too old to be doing so. No one seemed to mind. All the Grounders knew this was their first December on the ground. In fact, they all seemed welcoming and encouraging of their enthusiasm. It made Clarke feel like less of an outsider or newcomer, but more of a civilian. More like a child experiencing their first Christmas with a loving neighbourhood around it. Kane took both of her hands, spinning them around as they both laughed. Clarke couldn’t remember a time where she felt more carefree. From the moment her foot touched the ground, all her childhood innocence had disappeared – replaced by adult responsibilities and a constant fear of death at every corner. Even when she had made peace with Lexa, her own Kru had fought against her, almost causing a Civil War. She had no moment of calm, no time to breathe. All she did was fight. It was nice to be able to just let go of that – even if it was only for a few minutes.

“Ambassador,” came the familiar voice of Clarke’s personal guard, Nyko. Dutifully, she turned towards him, narrowing her eyes as if she knew he was about to ruin one of the greatest moments of her time on Earth so far. “Your presence is required in the meeting. You have fifteen minutes until Heda expects your attendance. It is time to get ready,” he continued when he knew he had her full attention. Clarke gave him a polite nod before turning back to Kane. The sparkle in his eyes was still there, but his smile had dropped a little. For a long time, he had wanted to be the one to burden the title of Ambassador, but the Commander had spoken. It was to be Clarke – the only Sky Person she could trust at that time, so Kane bore the mark instead. It was a small price to pay for the woman who had fought for peace between the two clans. He wore it with pride.

“I’m sorry; I have to go,” said Clarke.

“Duty calls,” said Kane. He smiled warmly at Clarke. After everything he had done for her, her mother, and the Sky People, Clarke often felt a wave of gratitude for the man. He was good. A familiar woman caught her eye in the background and Clarke grinned a little.

“You could convince Indra to spin around with you in the snow for a bit,” she joked.

Letting out a laugh, Kane said, “I think it’d be more likely for Titus to join me than Indra.” With a final laugh, Clarke said her goodbyes, promising to return the next time it snowed to take advantage of the novel weather.

Clarke followed Nyko back up to her room. She had made this trip a thousand times; she was certain she could do it blindfolded. However, the Commander would never allow it, ensuring Clarke’s safety at all times. It had been hard. Clarke could roam the tower freely without any guards watching over her, but she somehow knew that one was always close. She could go into the markets and into Polis, but a guard or two had to follow her. Lexa had always assured her that every Ambassador got the exact same treatment when they stayed in Polis. It was always under her protection. The main difference between Clarke and the other Ambassadors was that Lexa had asked Clarke to stay – somewhat indefinitely – and Clarke had agreed, happily. Most of the Sky People returned to their land, but a few opted to stay in Polis where the culture, the people, and the atmosphere were vibrant, including Octavia, Kane, and Abby. Clarke had opted to stay for another reason. It just so happened that her reason had green eyes and a rare smile.

“Ambassador, thank you for joining me,” said Lexa as Clarke entered the meeting room. To her surprise, she was the only Ambassador there. Of course, behind the Commander were two guards and there were two flanking the door. Clarke had grown accustomed to this. She had also grown a little too familiar with Lexa’s Commander clothes and sash. The woman was always in a pair of black pants, leather boots, black top, black overcoat, shoulder piece, and red sash. Most notably, the Commander wasn’t wearing her black warpaint. This led Clarke to believe it wasn’t a very serious meeting. That, and the fact that only she was present. “Please,” Lexa continued. She motioned to Clarke’s usual seat on her left. “Take a seat.” Clarke obliged, eyeing all the vacant ones surrounding her.

“Excuse me, Commander, but are we not expecting anyone else?” Clarke asked. At the end of her question, she let her eyes trail over to the woman on the throne, gulping as she took in her appearance. This Lexa, with all her Commander gear, was the most familiar version of the woman she had seen. She was all hard lines and a tough demeanour. Clarke’s fondest memory of this Lexa was when the brunette had leaned in and kissed her in her tent all those months back. Clarke remembered telling her she wasn’t ready for a relationship, not yet, but that felt like an eternity ago. Clarke was a different person then. She finally felt ready. Truth be told, she’d felt ready for a long time, but with the threat of war brewing and the impact of Nia, there had been no time nor place to explore that. Maybe, finally, all that was calming down, and Clarke could approach the subject once more.

“No. I have sent letters to the other Ambassadors, notifying them of this month’s schedule. I only called this meeting with yourself because you are new to the coalition. The other Ambassadors are all aware of how this works,” Lexa replied. Her tone was even and collected. Commander mode. Clarke just offered a nod of understanding. She had learned that Lexa was the sort of person who would only speak if she felt that words were needed. She was comfortable in silence. In turn, Clarke had learned the unimportance of filling space with speech when it was unnecessary, or simply filler, to avoid uncomfortable silences. It was Lexa who taught her that no silence is uncomfortable if there is no need for speech.

“You do not know of our ways, Clarke, but you must learn that being an Ambassador is a duty you fulfil all year round,” Lexa continued.

With a nod, Clarke added, “Yes, I’m aware of that.”

“Good. However, there is one exception,” said Lexa. She paused, raising an eyebrow ever so slightly that to an untrained eye, it would have gone unnoticed. But Clarke knew her. She saw straight through her. Lexa wanted Clarke to be intrigued. Clarke would play her game.

“Oh?” said Clarke. Lexa nodded slowly.

“Yes. In December, with it being so close to Christmas, we call a ceasefire, of sorts,” Lexa explained. This had piqued Clarke’s interest. Sensing that the blonde was still confused, Lexa continued, “Our duties don’t stop. If our Kru have any problems, we will deal with them. However, there will be no coalition meetings until the fourth of January. Personally, I will not deal with any Clan issues from the fifteenth of December until the fourth of January, so they must be sorted by their Ambassadors. If there are any wars, they are all stopped until the fourth of January. This has been our way for years.”

Clarke tried taking it all in, but it was a lot to process. Was Lexa saying that (as long as there were no issues) Clarke was free from her duties for nearly a month? Thankfully, things had been going swimmingly back at Skaikru’s land since Pike was overthrown and Jaha was back in charge, leaving Clarke to remain in Polis to keep an eye on what was going on here. Even if there were issues in Skaikru, there could be no uprisings until the New Year. It filled Clarke with a slither of hope that she clung to desperately. So far, her life on Earth – and on the Ark – had been about nothing other than survival. But now, she may have a shot at something more. No threats of war, no coalition meetings, and no responsibilities for a month. It sounded too good to be true.

“Why?” asked Clarke.

“It is hard being an Ambassador and having people who look to you and will die and fight for you but will also criticise you and demand that you do the best for your people. Everyone deserves a day off. These few weeks of rest and calm also allow for any tensions to lessen because everyone knows that no wars can be started from tomorrow. It is a ceasefire, a break, a lapse in fighting. It is good for everyone,” said Lexa. She turned her gaze away from Clarke – something she seldom does during conversation. Clarke could tell she had a faraway look in her eyes, like she was reminiscing about a simpler time, or just remembering the last time she had a break. If Clarke thought being an Ambassador was hard, she couldn’t even begin to imagine what being Commander would be like.

“What about you?” Clarke questioned. This brought Lexa’s attention back to her, her focused eyes settling on the blonde’s face as she thought about the question.

“I, too, need a break, Clarke,” she said. If Clarke had blinked, she’d have missed the miniscule quirk of the brunette’s lips as she spoke. It was barely there, lasting less than a millisecond before it disappeared, masked by the façade of seriousness the Commander always wore during these meetings. However, for a split second, Clarke felt like the Commander had let that façade slip, just for her. Lexa straightened her posture and tilted her chin upwards. “Do you have any more questions?” Lexa asked. Suddenly, Clarke was transported back to her school days on the Ark, feeling like a child who had no idea what her maths teacher was talking about. She felt like she had a million questions but couldn’t think of where to begin.

“Should I send a note to Jaha about the expectations of Skaikru over this period?” Clarke asked. Lexa offered her a solitary, serious nod.

“Finish the letter by this evening and I will send riders at dusk to deliver it,” said Lexa.

“Okay, and if my clan have any problems, who should they go to?” Lexa blinked at Clarke a few times like she was trying to work out what she’d just asked. After a short while, she set her lips in a straight line and pursed them ever so slightly. Clarke noticed. Clarke always noticed.

“Usually, they would report to their Ambassadors, but considering you are residing here in Polis, they will have to report to Jaha. Unless, of course, you would want to return to Skaikru for Christmas if you do not put your trust in Jaha to fulfil your people’s needs,” Lexa advised. This time, there was a cutting edge to her tone.

“No, I want to remain in Polis, and I trust Jaha. I shall inform him in the letter that he is now trusted with their concerns. If there is anything that he is unsure of, he can contact me by letter,” said Clarke.

“As you wish,” was all Lexa replied with.

Her eyes were wandering around the meeting room like she was bored, but Clarke could tell when the woman was bored. That was usually within the coalition meetings when various Ambassadors would plead their cases before her about insignificant issues and Lexa could have to pretend to care. She would peel her eyelids back and stare at them with all her faux attention, but Clarke could tell that she would be bored because she would be settled against the back of her throne and every so often, her gaze would flit – mostly to Clarke – and then back to whoever was speaking. Clarke had even picked up on how Lexa avoided yawning in front of them. She would keep her lips in a straight line, clench her jaw, and then her cheeks would puff ever so slightly, indicating that she was yawning without even opening her mouth. The main tell would be her eyelids flickering a little. Perhaps Clarke had been paying more attention to the brunette than the other Ambassadors and their concerns during the coalition meetings. It was clear now that Lexa was just pretending to be bored. Clarke had learned this was just another one of her walls. If Clarke knew she was interested in whether she stayed or left, it would reveal Lexa’s ‘weakness.’ Clarke couldn’t help but feel a little smug that Titus consistently referred to her as Lexa’s ‘weakness,’ otherwise known (in Skaikru terms) as her ‘crush.’

“Is that all?” asked Lexa, knocking Clarke out of her inner monologue.

“Unless you have anything more you would like to discuss,” Clarke replied. Lexa gave a subtle shake of her head. Clarke was so well-tuned to the woman’s body language that something as subtle as a tiny headshake seemed vigorous. This headshake meant she was regretful, potentially because the meeting was over so soon.

“If you think of any questions, you know where to find me,” Lexa offered before standing. She said those words like they were a challenge.

“Thank you, Heda,” said Clarke. She rose to her feet and nodded a goodbye at the brunette. With that, the guards swung the doors open and Clarke strode out, only glancing behind her once as she left. It was time she wrote that letter to Jaha.

The following morning, Clarke awoke to a loud rapping on her door. As she cracked her eyes open, she checked the large clock on the other side of the room. It was eight in the morning. This was rather late for an Ambassador, but with her getting the rest of the month off, Clarke had refused an early wake-up call. However, now, she was fretting that she’d dreamt the whole ordeal and had just slept through a whole host of meetings. Hastily, she grabbed a thick, fur gown and threw it over her as she ran to the door, not even bothering to check her appearance before pulling the door open. To her surprise, all seven Nightbloods were on the other side of her door, wrapped in warm, thick clothing all with smiles on their faces.

“Good morning, Clarke,” they all said in unison. Clarke was taken aback. Firstly, the Nightbloods had never called on her in her room – ever. She was almost certain they didn’t know where she resided. Second, no one under Lexa ever referred to her as Clarke. It was always Ambassador. The only person who had called her Clarke was Lexa. Perhaps because the Ambassadors had a month off, they no longer held the title of Ambassador. Maybe this meant that Clarke could just be Clarke.

“Uh, hi guys. I wasn’t expecting anyone,” she said. Slowly, she edged the door a little closer to the doorframe, hoping to conceal more of her body behind it. This was not the state of undress the poor kids should find her in.

“Sorry, we just all thought because it was your first Winter here, we’d check to see if you wanted to do some stuff with us. It’s all snow stuff,” it was Aden who spoke. Now Clarke was completely taken aback. The Nightbloods were notoriously serious under a strict regimen. Seeing them this cheery and this… _childlike_ made Clarke wonder maybe they also had the rest of the month off. Either way, they gave her an offer she could hardly refuse.

“Yeah, that would be great! Just, give me some time to get dressed and I’ll meet you downstairs or something. Or, if we’re in the snow, I could meet you in the courtyard or training grounds?” said Clarke in a rush. Aden shook his head.

“We always go to this park area on the other side of Polis for stuff like this. But don’t worry, we’ll wait in the hall downstairs for when you’re ready. Come on, guys,” said Aden politely.

“Wait!” Clarke nearly shouted as they began filing down the hallway. They all stilled and turned towards her. “You’re allowed out of the tower grounds? Am I allowed out of the tower grounds?” she asked. Once again, she felt hope and excitement bubbling in her stomach. Surely, this couldn’t be happening. A number of the Nightbloods nodded their heads like it was the silliest question they’d ever heard.

“Yeah, it’s the fifteenth of December,” said Aden, like it was obvious what that meant. Clarke’s suspicions were correct. Everyone got this month off! She suddenly felt a rush of adrenaline and could almost taste the freedom.

“Okay, meet you all downstairs in ten!” said Clarke. They all offered her waves, but Clarke had practically already shut the door and was throwing her gown onto the bed as she raced around her room getting ready. This was the best news she’d had in a long time.

It hardly took her ten minutes to get ready as she skidded round the corner into the hallway eight minutes after she’d said to the Nightbloods she’d see them later. She based her outfit on what they were all wearing, managing to find some thick fur clothes in the wardrobe. She even had a hat, similar to Aden’s, and a scarf like the other Nightbloods. She’d never been a person who was particularly good with children, but for once, she was looking forward to spending the whole day with them. It almost felt like her own childhood had been short-lived, snatched from her. She spent most of it trapped inside a space station, then confined to a prison cell, and then when she finally had freedom, she was tempting death at every corner as her adolescence slipped from her fingertips. She finally had time to relive her childhood.

Just as they were about to step foot out of the tower doors, an all-too familiar voice beckoned Clarke over to him. Thankfully, there was no use of the word ‘Ambassador,’ but instead, her real name was used. Just as she’d felt all this hope bubble up inside her, she could feel the carpet being tugged from beneath her feet as she approached Titus. The man scowled down at her, looking entirely displeased at her existence. Clarke waited with bated breath, knowing that a chastising was on its way for even daring to leave the grounds without the Commander’s protection. With his hands behind his back, he let out a deep sigh and then brought them forwards with something in his grip. It looked like some yarn or wool.

“Lexa has asked me to deliver these to you as a gift,” he said through his teeth. Clarke was sure he would be spitting the words at her if he wasn’t being watched by a dozen guards. As he opened his hand, Clarke looked at what the gift was until she recognised what the gift was: Gloves!

“Oh, wow! Tell her thank you!” said Clarke. She took them from Titus, turning them over in her hands. They were super thick and felt soft and warm. With these, she knew she’d be able to introduce the Nightbloods to a few games and activities she’d learned about from the Ark, like building snowmen and having snowball fights. Without them, she knew she could’ve gotten frostbite.

“I shall pass on your gratitude,” Titus practically hissed. Clarke couldn’t even find it within her to be bitter, flashing him a toothy beam before turning her attention back to the children. She slipped the gloves on, relishing in how warm they were. For a minute, she thought maybe they felt warmer because they were a gift, warming her from the inside.

“Right, let’s go!” Clarke exclaimed. In a very childlike manner, the Nightbloods all shouted varied cheers and piled out of the door into the flurrying snow fall that was slightly heavier than yesterday.

Clarke let the children run ahead of her, marking the fresh snow with their small footprints. She couldn’t believe it. It must’ve snowed through the night because the whole of Polis was covered in a white blanket. It wasn’t particularly early for the residents of Polis, so there were many hoofprints, carriage tracks and footprints littering the snow. It looked beautiful. Ethereal. Like a scene plucked directly from a fantasy novel.

She took a tentative step into the snow, feeling it crunch and harden underfoot. That was surprising, she thought. It wasn’t slippery, nor was it soft. Her feet felt a little colder in their boots, but no water was seeping through thankfully. She took another step, this time more confidently, and gradually got used to the feeling of the snow beneath her feet. She soon caught up to the Nightbloods, noticing that there were many footprints all heading seemingly in the same direction in which they were travelling. Clarke felt her excitement double. She’d never been to these parts of Polis, not even with the guards around her. All the inhabitants lived here, so she felt like she was trespassing, but now, in her huge coat and Winter getup, she felt like she blended in. She was almost anonymous if she pulled her scarf up any higher.

They climbed a small hill until they reached what appeared to be a few massive fields right at the edge of Polis. Clarke lost count of how many people were there – children and adults alike. All around the fields were rows and rows of trees, seemingly shrouding these fields from onlookers and from the rest of Polis. At any other point, Clarke would’ve felt vulnerable to attack, knowing that Nia and the Ice Nation could burst through the treeline at any moment and declare war, or the Mountain Men could be scouting in the trees with snipers, aiming at her head right now. However, Clarke could rest assured in the knowledge that (one) all fighting ceased today, and (two) she knew there were Trikru soldiers lining those trees in case of an onslaught. They were safe. Besides, no one else seemed to carry her concerns.

There were parents chasing after their children, picking them up then throwing them playfully into mounds of snow. Children were running around, screaming joyfully as they rolled around in the snow. A few elderly people were even running around, great smiles on their red faces as they entertained their grandchildren. On the Ark, Clarke would’ve been worried for the older adults. ‘Respect your Elders’ was drilled into them from a young age as they were always told to watch out for them and help them whenever they could. Back on the Ark, Clarke used to help people in their sixties carry a single book because they were so fragile. Here, there were some people as old as mid-eighties, chasing the others around like they were in their physical prime. It was amazing.

Clarke hung back, letting out a breath of fresh air. She could see her breath in the cold and smiled. It may have been a chilly day, but she felt warm on the inside. She was free. She could do whatever she wanted for nearly a month. She could indulge. She could even play. She didn’t want to waste any time.

“Hey, Clarke!” said Aden. During her observations, he had sidled up beside her as the other younger Nightbloods ran in the snow. She turned her head to look at him and smiled. “Have you ever made Snow Warriors?” he asked

“No! What are they?” she asked enthusiastically.

“Let me show you!” said Aden. He held out his hand, waiting for Clarke to take it. It was safe to say Clarke was surprised.

From what she knew about children, they tended to just grab your hand without waiting for an answer, but Aden was respectful and very grown up. She supposed kids here had to grow up fast, especially with the legacy of becoming Heda on their shoulders. She took his hand and they skipped together where the snow was deeper.

In no time at all, Clarke, Aden and the other Nightbloods had constructed three incredible Snow Warriors. From the books she’d read back on the Ark, Clarke knew that people one hundred years ago used to build Snowmen and these Snow Warriors were somewhat similar. The main differences were that they were usually wielding some sort of weapon and had a helmet on. The weapon of choice for their Snow Warriors was a lengthy stick. They stood back and admired their work. For her first Snow Warriors, Clarke was impressed with her effort. They were a little lopsided and far from perfect, but that didn’t matter. She’d had the most fun. For once, she was the tallest in the group, so she was assigned the role of doing most of the head and facework. The Nightbloods were all massively impressed by her ability to shape a very realistic face in snow using only her fingers and a pointy twig. It was Clarke’s first attempt at anything artistic since her portrait of Lexa, and it felt good to be doing something she was good at – especially when her audience were praising her highly for it.

About halfway through the day, Aden and one of the other Nightbloods delegated themselves the task of getting food for the group. Clarke was a little worried they’d get lost, but she knew that was silly. Those kids knew Polis better than she ever would. Besides, this gave her the chance to get to know the other Nightbloods a little better and meant that she could watch over them while Aden was away. In no time at all, they had returned with meat in bread. Ravenous, everyone wolfed them down in a matter of minutes. Then, Clarke noticed a number of adults venturing into the woods with their children and coming out with handfuls of branches and twigs, dumping them in the middle of the field.

“What are they doing?” Clarke asked the group of children around her. They were all stood up, finishing off their burgers and licking their fingers.

One of the girls replied, “Making a bonfire. It helps keep warm when it gets dark.” Clarke nodded her understanding.

“Have you ever foraged for firewood, Amba—I mean, Clarke?” another girl asked. She turned a brighter shade of red when she got Clarke’s title wrong, but the blonde just brushed over it.

“A little, but not much. Could you show me?” Clarke replied. The small girl nodded happily, offering her tiny hand to Clarke. Once again, Clarke accepted, and they walked into the woods together.

Aden smiled at them both. Obviously, it was his idea to include Clarke in their snow shenanigans, but that was because he knew it would be what his Commander would do. Heda was his only role-model. Heda loved Clarke and did everything for her, so he would do the same. He knew she was special and paramount to peacekeeping in the coalition. When he becomes Heda, he will treat Clarke’s people as his own. It was a vow. He watched on for a second as the youngest Nightblood talked animatedly to Clarke, showing her which bits of trees were good for firewood. He could tell that Clarke was humouring her when she picked up a leaf and asked if this was good. The young Nightblood shook her head, letting out a small giggle before launching into a babble about how leaves were only good for producing smoke as Clarke listened intently to something she already knew. He was beginning to understand why this woman who fell from the sky was so special.

With the smell of bonfire smoke on her Winter clothes and in her hair, Clarke waved goodbye to the Nightbloods as they disappeared into their quarters of the tower. They might have some freedom, but they still had a bedtime. Clarke, on the other hand, did not. She meandered down the hallway, stopping by the kitchen to grab some leftovers that were handed to her. She absent-mindedly nibbled on them as she walked, admiring all the decorations that had somehow magically appeared during the time she was out. Well, she says decorations, but what she means is candles. Thousands, no, millions of candles lining every surface, hanging from the high ceilings, and burning into the night. Clarke enjoyed lighting a candle or two as her main source of light at night as she was reading, but this was ridiculous, and she knew it had Lexa written all over it. That thought alone meant a small smile crossed her features.

She turned into the hallway near to her room, passing Lexa’s room as she walked. Most nights, she wondered what would happen if she lingered, asking the guards to let her in. Would Lexa entertain her for a few hours like she did in the day sometimes – one reading as the other drew? Would she send Clarke on her way, saying she didn’t want to be disturbed unless it was a dire emergency? Or, would she let Clarke in with open arms, allowing her to fall into the strong embrace of the woman Clarke knew – first and foremost as the Commander – but more intimately as Lexa, just a girl like herself, burdened by war and impending adulthood? Just as the thought of stopping by and seeing if her fantasy would play out into reality, she was distracted by some gruff voices speaking just in front of her. On a set of dangerously tall ladders, Nyko was stood, hanging a candle from the ceiling as Lincoln held the ladders in place at the base. As they heard footsteps, they turned to face them, expecting their Commander returning from wishing the Nightbloods goodnight. When they spotted Clarke, they both visibly relaxed and smiled. Nyko jumped down from the ladder, giving Clarke a heart attack thinking he would surely plummet to his death. Instead, he landed gracefully and silently on the stone floor.

“Hey, did you have a good day?” Nyko asked. He was wearing a small smile – something very unusual for her guard – and he was substantially dressed-down in some baggy trousers and a cosy fleece. His hair was let down around his face and his eyes almost looked like they were shining. It was then that Clarke realised Nyko was no longer her guard for the rest of the month. He was simply Nyko.

“Yeah, it was great thanks. Yours?” she replied. Her gaze flitted across to the first Grounder she ever met: Lincoln. He was dressed similarly to Nyko in some baggy clothes and was wearing a lazy, happy smile. This was very odd. The Grounders were notorious for being serious and all about war and fighting and blood must have blood, except in December, it seemed.

“Good! We’ve just been decorating all day. It’s quite satisfying,” said Nyko. He was awfully softly spoken compared to how he sounded as a guard. His authoritative tone and scary demeanour were replaced by this teddy bear sorts of a man in front of her. She was seeing him in a completely new light. She had always known that he wasn’t just a guard, but she’d never really understood until now that he was a _person_. He had a life of his own, a wife, children, and a personality. He had kind eyes and in the months he’d looked over Clarke, she’d never seen him lay a finger on anyone else, even when someone else was threatening him. He was gentle and caring and nice. He was everything she didn’t expect from her guard.

“Well, you guys did a good job,” said Clarke with a sweet smile.

“Thanks,” said Lincoln. Clarke looked up at the array of candles, lighting up the hallway like it was broad daylight and sniggered.

“It’s no surprise that Commander Hardass of the thirteen candles is behind this—” Clarke began, trailing off when she saw Lincoln and Nyko’s faces pale. Sheepishly, she began turning around, sensing immediately that someone was behind her. She had her fingers-crossed, praying that it wasn’t Titus. That man was looking for any excuse to have her banished from the tower.

“Good evening, Clarke. It is nice to see you back,” came a voice she was not expecting.

Whipping around, Clarke rushed, “Commander, I didn’t…I wasn’t…” but she was interrupted, this time by the brunette holding up her hand to silence her.

“Lexa,” she said. Clarke furrowed her eyebrows. “I am not on duty for the rest of this month. Lexa will suffice,” Lexa clarified. Clarke nodded, resisting the urge to apologise. She dropped her eyes to the floor, hoping that it would swallow her up. Thankfully, a distraction came in the form of the woman she was mocking behind her back. “Lincoln, Nyko, you’ve done an excellent job of the decorations. Thank you.” Clarke dared looking up again, noticing the two men nodding appreciatively and _smiling_? No one ever smiled at the Commander. Clarke was almost sure it was illegal or something. She chanced a look at Lexa to spy her reaction and only then did she notice how the woman had transformed. Instead of her all black Heda attire, she was in a flowing gown – not dissimilar to the one she wore when she went to Clarke’s room after her fight. Her face was clear of warpaint, her feet bare, her arms covered by a small fur she had wrapped around her, and her hair cascading over one shoulder in gentle curls. Her eyes were soft, and her face had a more feminine curve to it. She even had a soft smile.

Suffice to say, Clarke felt the breath catch in her throat. Lexa looked feminine and soft. She looked nothing like the warrior Commander Clarke had met with just over twenty-four hours ago. She looked peaceful and calm. There were no hard lines on her face, no clenched jaw, and no hard stare. She was almost unrecognisable. Almost. But her eyes were the same. The same shade of green that twinkled beneath the candles, the light letting small golden flecks to flicker in her irises. She looked beautiful, like a goddess returning from war, satisfied with her win. Clarke was taken aback, feeling all the air leave her body like she’d been winded. She was at a loss for words.

“I’ll be going to bed now. Clarke,” said Lexa, drawing the blonde’s attention to her. Clarke’s eyes fixed on Lexa’s and she felt like she was in a trance, captivated. “If you would like, you may join me tomorrow. I am planning on heading into Polis for some fresh air and to speak with some of the locals,” Lexa continued.

“Yeah, yes, I would love that,” said Clarke. She felt her heart stop beating when the brunette offered her a slight smile, releasing a sigh when Clarke accepted her invitation. Clarke smiled back, feeling it reach her eyes for the first time in months. Lexa nodded slowly, then lifted her chin slightly to acknowledge the presence of the men in the hallway.

“Goodnight,” she said curtly. Lincoln and Nyko wished her goodnight in return, and with one last lingering look at Clarke, she turned on her heel and padded silently to her door.

“Reshop Leksa,” said Clarke – almost in a whisper. Lexa heard it. She stilled at her door, the ghost of a smile playing on her lips. Slowly, she turned her head in the direction of the blonde, her eyes wide and playful.

“Goodnight, Clarke,” she said. With that, she opened her door, walked into her room, and closed it again silently. Clarke quickly wished Nyko and Lincoln goodnight before retreating to her own room, trying desperately to fight the smile on her face but failing. As soon as she closed her door behind her, she let out an excited squeal and began bouncing around her room. Her day was just getting better!

Outside in the hallway, Lincoln and Nyko both looked at each other unsurely. They were both wearing quizzical expressions. Nyko started folding up the ladder while Lincoln gathered all the pins and ribbon they’d had leftover from decorating the tower. As they passed Lexa’s room to reach the elevator, Lincoln finally turned to his friend.

“Do you just feel like they had no idea we were stood there in that hallway with them?” he asked.

Without missing a beat, Nyko agreed, “Yep, I’ve never felt more invisible in my life.”

The following day, Clarke awoke early. She stretched her sore limbs in the bed, feeling the furs on top and beneath her shift as she moved. Getting up was easy with the knowledge that she had a day ahead of her with Lexa. She didn’t know what time Lexa would be knocking for her, so she began to get ready, ensuring that she was wrapped up warm again as the snow fell outside her window. Already, many Polis residents were up and about with cheery red faces. As Clarke looked down, she could envision getting mixed in with the other locals and just blending into the background. Then again, she’d be with the Commander; they’d never blend in.

Clarke picked up her gloves from in front of the fire that had been long burned out and slipped them into her coat pocket. She had completely forgotten to express her gratitude to Lexa personally for gifting them to her. She made a mental note to thank her when they eventually met. However, her train of thought was interrupted by a light knock on her door. Swiftly, she made her way over, checking her appearance in the mirror as she passed. As she opened her door, she put on a small smile and cocked her head. However, she was met with one of Lexa’s chambermaids who was stood in the hallway with her hands clasped in front of her.

“Good morning, Clarke. Lexa sent me to ask that you join her downstairs when you’re ready to go. There’s no rush,” she said. Then, with a small bow, she departed down the hall.

“Oh, thank you!” Clarke shouted after her. Without a second thought, she grabbed her hat and stuffed it over her head before shutting her chamber door and making her way to the elevator.

On the ride down, she was so concerned about how she looked, she didn’t even consider that Lexa wouldn’t be in her Commander outfit. When she turned the corner into the main hallway, she almost walked straight past her, not recognising the woman without her gear. The only tell that it was her was the way her eyes latched onto Clarke the second she walked into the space. She was completely free of her warpaint and make-up and instead of having her hair down or some back in braids, she had pulled it up into a messy bun. It was a sight Clarke had never seen, and one she wanted to commit to memory. The woman was also dressed in a pair of leggings that showed off her shapely legs, a cosy, knitted mustard jumper that looked a little oversized, some boots, and a thick coat. Clarke couldn’t believe how different someone could look when they were simply dressed down. She walked over to the woman who was surrounded by dressed-down guards, chatting and smiling. As soon as Clarke approached, Lexa stopped talking. All her attention was on the blonde.

“Good morning, Clarke. Thank you for joining me,” said Lexa politely.

“Oh, my pleasure. I forgot to thank you yesterday for the gloves Titus passed onto me,” said Clarke. Without being asked, the guards dispersed, leaving the two women stood facing each other. Lexa offered her a smile and Clarke was surprised. The way her lips quirked upwards made her face morph into an expression Clarke hadn’t seen before. Lexa looked carefree, young. It often slipped Clarke’s mind how young the Commander was. She was only a few years older than herself – if that. Clarke couldn’t even begin to imagine having that much responsibility at her age. Understandably, Lexa always seemed much older than she was, but in reality, she was very young. Younger than all her guards, chambermaids, and Ambassadors.

“There is no need to thank me. You are my guest in Polis, so anything you may require will be given to you,” said Lexa. Clarke gave her a small smile followed by a nod. After a pause, Lexa said, “Now, I hope you’ve not eaten already.”

They made their way outside, automatically falling in-step with each other. If Clarke was surprised by Lexa’s new appearance, she was even more surprised by her changed demeanour. The brunette made small talk as they walked towards the centre of Polis from the tower, asking Clarke how her stay was, whether she was happy with her room, and whether she had any plans for Christmas Day. Clarke had completely forgotten about the upcoming holiday with all the stress of maintaining peace between Skaikru and the other clans. Lexa purchased them both some pastries from a stall and a drink each. She invited Clarke to sit down on a smooth rock beside the stall as they dug into their pastries. Lexa took a sip of her hot drink before turning to the blonde.

“So, how did you used to spend your Christmases in Space?” Lexa asked, curiosity twinkling in her eyes. At the mention of space, Clarke felt a little chuckle rise. The brunette was so literal in the way she spoke that it entertained Clarke.

“Um, we didn’t have much to do. We had a room for each family, so most of the time, we’d stay in our rooms and open a few presents, then have a Christmas Dinner. When my grandparents were alive, they also visited, and we spent Christmas with them. The main difference was that everyone was off work,” Clarke explained. She looked up at Lexa who was eyeing her closely like she was hanging onto her every word. “How do you spend your Christmases?” Clarke asked. She took another bite of her pastry, relishing in how soft and warm it was. Food on the Ark tasted nothing like this. All their food was beige and bland. Lexa smiled at the question.

“Usually, everyone gets together in Polis and we have a Christmas feast with large tables in the middle and everyone sat around them. That only happens just after midday though. In the mornings, Titus and I cook something small for breakfast while the Nightbloods open their presents in the meeting room. As we’re eating breakfast, I’ll open my presents from them and from a few other people, and Titus will open his one present from me. He doesn’t like presents, or Christmas. I think he only gets involved then I’m not alone with the Nightbloods and all the work. After the feast, we make a big bonfire and play music. Sometimes, there’s dancing and alcohol. It is a joyous occasion,” Lexa explained. Clarke raised her eyebrows throughout the whole speech. She never once imagined the big, bad Commander to host a cute Christmas Day for all the children in the Tower, let alone make them breakfast and buy them presents. She felt a warmth blossom in her stomach. She realised she’d stayed quiet for a prolonged time when Lexa eyed her confusedly. “Will you be spending this Christmas with your mother and Kane?” Lexa asked. Stumped, Clarke opened and closed her mouth a few times.

“I actually don’t know. Maybe. I haven’t really thought about it,” Clarke replied. She tried imagining what a Christmas Day here would look like. Her, Kane and her mum all sat around a small table, eating food and talking about things other than war or survival. She couldn’t picture it.

“Well, you are invited to spend your Christmas Day with us in the tower. You are my guest, after all,” said Lexa. Her eyes were flitting around her, not focusing on one place and avoiding Clarke’s gaze at all times. She even started batting some invisible crumbs from her thick leggings. Once again, Clarke was lost for words. The generosity of her Commander – of Lexa – was astounding and never ceased to amaze her. Lexa felt as though the silence was growing uncomfortable. “Of course, your mother and Kane are also invited. Christmas is about family after all,” she hastened to add. This time, she met Clarke’s eyes and felt them trained on her in surprise.

“That would be nice. I’ll make sure to ask them,” said Clarke. Lexa let out a sigh of relief.

“I can send them letters to formerly invite them,” Lexa offered.

Shaking her head, Clarke said, “No, it’s okay. I’ll visit my mum sometime this week to ask her myself. I think it’s about time I went to see her.”

“Very well,” said Lexa. At first, Clarke was worried she’d pushed Lexa back into her Commander mode, but then the brunette smiled softly.

They finished off their pastries and hot drinks before Lexa stood, taking Clarke’s rubbish with her and extending her hand to help her stand. She deposited the rubbish in a nearby bin, then lead Clarke through the maze of stalls. Clarke tried hiding her disappointment when Lexa dropped her hand as soon as Clarke had got to her feet. The blonde kept her eyes trained on Lexa’s form as they made their way past the stalls, not wanting to lose her in the crowd. She was surprised when no one seemed to make a path for their Heda as she mingled amongst the locals. She was treated just like anyone else in the community. Clarke was so deep in her own thoughts about how normal Lexa seemed that she didn’t notice the brunette stopping. Clarke walked straight into her back, but thankfully, the woman was sturdy and didn’t even flinch. Quickly recovering, Clarke flashed Lexa a small smile to let her know she was okay, then let her gaze wander to the stall they were stopped at.

“I need to get the Nightbloods their presents. I am a little behind on my Christmas shopping this year,” Lexa explained. In front of them was a quaint stall containing many sweet things and chocolates. It looked and smelled amazing.

“Hei Heda, chit na Ai dula op gon Yu?” asked the stallholder. Clarke stared blankly, only recognising very few words in the sentence. Lexa smiled at the older man and offered him a small bow of her head.

“Beja, em ste Leksa. Ai laik hir gon bida gifts ga Natblidas. Chit dula op Yu suggest?” said Lexa. Once again, Clarke blinked between the two people talking Trigedasleng. The stallholder gave a bright smile, then began busying himself with placing a number of sweet items into paper bags. Lexa turned to Clarke, her green eyes shining as she smiled. “He called me Heda and then asked what he could do for me,” Lexa began. Clarke sighed in relief that the woman was translating for her – otherwise it could have been very awkward if he had said something to her that she didn’t understand. Clarke nodded in understanding, prompting Lexa to continue, “I then told him to call me Lexa. I’m not Heda when I am with my people. I asked him what gifts he would recommend for the Nightbloods and now he is packaging them for me.”

“Thank you,” Clarke breathed out. Lexa offered her another smile, Clarke wondered if the woman had to suppress her smiles often, because when she was free to be just herself – to be just Lexa – she smiled frequently.

“Maybe, if you would like, I could teach you some of our language. It would help with the residents here and in the coalition meetings,” Lexa suggested.

“I’d like that,” Clarke replied. They both looked up from the stall at the same time, catching each other’s eyes simultaneously. Two smiles appeared on their faces automatically, and for a second, Clarke felt something very strange. She completely forgot who they were. She was the very first Ambassador for Skaikru and Lexa was the Commander of the thirteen clans, but for a short moment, all that disappeared. This is what Clarke imagined a first date to be like. Spending time together, eating food, making small talk, and sharing smiles. She had to remind herself that this wasn’t a date. This was simply her and Lexa spending time together on a day off.

“Ai nay u don emo sent gon tower,” said the man. Clarke could spy on each of the packages were the Nightbloods’ names. Clearly, the children had visited this stall often that he knew their favourite confectionaries by heart.

“Mochof,” said Lexa. Clarke watched as she pulled out a few gold coins from inside her coat and passed them over to the man. He took them and began counting. Lexa turned back to Clarke. “He’s going to send the presents to the tower, and I said—”

“Thank you,” Clarke interrupted. Lexa’s eyebrows shot to her hairline for a split second. Clarke was sure that she’d overstepped. There was probably no one in the whole of Polis – the whole of Earth – who interrupted the Commander. But then, it seemed that Lexa remembered she wasn’t the Commander that day, and her features softened into a proud smile.

“Exactly,” she said.

“Dison laik seintaim much,” said the man. He had his hand outstretched with a few coins in his palm, trying to pass them back to Lexa, but the woman just shook her head.

“Nou, em ste gon Yu,” replied Lexa. Both the man and Lexa thanked each other simultaneously in Trigedasleng before Lexa gave him a curt bow of her head and lead Clarke away from the stall.

“Did you give him too much for the sweets?” Clarke asked once they were out of earshot.

“I paid him more than they were worth, but I do not need it. I would rather show my appreciation for the work these men and women do all year round,” Lexa explained. She was looking straight ahead, giving Clarke chance to admire her side profile.

With every passing minute of the day, Clarke felt surprised by the woman beside her. How someone like Lexa could ruthlessly kick a man off a tower, sacrifice her loyal bodyguard, and drive a spear through a woman’s heart while also tipping stallholders, buying presents for orphaned children, and giving them special Christmas Days really showed the distinction between the Commander and Lexa. It was a marvel. Clarke wasn’t sure what to make of it just yet. She was never scared of Lexa, knowing for a fact that the woman would never use violence unnecessarily, but she knew what Lexa was capable of. Or was that Heda? Was there an overlap between them or were they two separate entities?

As they walked through the market, no one ever gave them a second glance. Clarke felt like they were invisible, and it was actually refreshing. Since she’d touched down on the ground, she’d felt like she was in a spotlight, highlighted as the leader or the peacekeeper. For a change, it was nice to finally feel like just someone in the crowd. She felt normal. She couldn’t help but think it was exactly how the brunette felt too. Eventually, they got to the end. Lexa had purchased a few more items for the Nightbloods and a new book for Titus to read. They were all to be sent to the Tower, so she didn’t have anything to carry around with her. By noon, all her shopping was done.

“I imagine Aden and the others took you to the hill yesterday,” said Lexa more like a statement than a question. Clarke nodded, smiling at the memory of the previous day. “I think they have gone again today. We could walk up to meet them and maybe help them with building Snow Warriors, if you would like?” Lexa asked. Despite no longer being crushed together due to the masses of locals around them, the two women remained close to each other’s sides, bumping shoulders every so often as they walked.

“Yeah, I would really like that. The Nightbloods were very impressed with the faces I drew on the Snow Warriors yesterday,” said Clarke with a chuckle. When she looked up at Lexa, there was a playful smile on her lips.

“You will have to show me how artistic you are with snow then,” she mused. Clarke returned the smile and they continued their walk to the other side of Polis.

As they helped the Nightbloods with their construction of the Snow Warriors, Lexa would every so often give Clarke little compliments on her artistic ability. At first, Clarke shied away from them as she was constantly reminded of when the brunette had caught her drawing her, but after a while, she welcomed them. Art was her passion, and she knew she was talented. Once again, they all helped collecting firewood to set it alight for when the temperature began dropping. Clarke had experienced such a lovely day that a huge part of her didn’t want it to end. She’d happily relive this day on repeat. Seeing Lexa’s unrestrained smiles whenever a child made a joke; watching her pick up the youngest Nightblood to add in some facial features on the Snow Warrior; and noticing her constant glancing over at Clarke to check that she was still okay and having fun. Clarke had never had someone take care of her in such a subtle manner that Lexa did. Obviously, Wells had always looked out for her, and even took the fall for her mother’s decision. But she had never been attracted to him. He was like a brother to her. But Lexa…Lexa was something else.

“Hey, Aden!” Clarke shouted, shaking herself out of her reverie. She had made a snowball in her hands and as soon as he turned to face her, she launched it at his head. Narrowly dodging it, he ducked down, laughing triumphantly as Clarke’s face fell. But she wasn’t concerned because she’d missed him, no. She was concerned because as Aden had ducked, it had smashed straight into the shoulder of Lexa…

The woman turned – painfully slowly – to face Clarke. She had a face of thunder and if looks could kill, Clarke would be six feet under. However, her face suddenly changed when one of the Nightbloods let out an almighty laugh. Her anger – which Clarke was pretty sure was faux – disappeared into thin air, replaced by a chuckle. What a sound that was! Clarke had never heard the woman chuckle. Ever. In fact, Clarke was starting to wonder whether she had the capability. In Clarke’s shock, she had been wildly unprepared for a snowball the size of her first to come flying in her direction, smacking her squarely in the chest.

“Snow must have snow, Clarke,” Lexa challenged. When Clarke recovered from the icy smack to her chest, she looked up, completely caught off-guard. Lexa was smirking cockily, her hip jutted to one side, and an eyebrow quirked. In one hand, she had another snowball at the ready, and Clarke knew she was in danger based on the power of the previous throw. The woman could throw spears through women’s hearts with a precision Clarke had never seen, so Clarke knew the woman was capable of damage via snowball. She was going to have to grovel.

“I thought we’d agreed. Snow must not have snow. Your legacy will be peace!” Clarke countered. Both of Lexa’s eyebrows raised in surprise that Clarke could comeback with a similar vigour to her own mockery. Her words from when they were trapped in the cage not long ago rang in her ears: Mockery is not the product of a strong mind. She had once believed love was weakness, but perhaps that mentality was slowly undoing. She was beginning to realise that although mockery may not be smart, it was certainly funny. With that thought in mind, she sent another snowball hurtling towards Clarke, hearing the thump as it hit her stomach.

“There is no room for peace here. Disha ste wor!” Lexa shouted. Clarke wasn’t strong at the language, but she could piece together that it meant they were at war. Unfortunately for her, at the mention of war in Trigedasleng from the Commander, all eyes of the locals turned to them. For a second, Clarke was concerned that she was going to get ambushed. However, as soon as Lexa cracked a smug smile, the spell broke and a raucous cheer echoed off the trees from all the people on top of the hill. Clarke got one thing right – she was ambushed.

Suddenly, she received a pelting of snowballs from every angle. She let out a surprised shriek, covering her head and face with her hands. Deep down, she knew she deserved this. She was the one who threw the first snowball. She was the one who incidentally hit the Commander in front of all her people. However, that didn’t mean she’d go down without a fight. As she dodged the snowballs as best as she could, she ducked down and began forming one of her own. As soon as she caught a figure in sight, she aimed and threw it at them. With the sound of a victorious thud of it making connection, she felt her spirit reignite and began making more, launching them at anyone around her in close range.

“Don’t worry, Clarke. I’ll help!” came a small voice. Clarke turned, spotting Aden crouched down beside her, making snowballs in a matter of seconds. Clarke had no time to be impressed by his skills, instead focusing on her own handywork.

The pounding of snowballs at her (and now Aden) relented slightly, giving them some time to start throwing some of their own. When Clarke could finally stand up and risked opening her eyes, she saw one of the most magical scenes in her life. All around her were families, children, adults, and grandparents running around, chasing each other with armfuls of snowballs, throwing them with enough force to feel but nowhere near enough to hurt. All her assailants had split off into groups, engaging in their own snowball fights between them. She was surrounded by laughter, joy, and childlike fun from Polis residents of all ages. Unfortunately, her admiration was short-lived as a snowball collided with the side of her face.

“Ow, that hurt!” she complained. She looked up, spotting Lexa facing her, a mischievous grin morphing into a look of concern in a matter of seconds. Of course, it didn’t hurt as much as Clarke was complaining it did, but the more she whined, the more time Aden had to construct more ammunition.

“Clarke, are you okay? I swear I wasn’t aiming to injure you,” said Lexa, her eyes wide as she started stepping closer to the blonde. Clarke adored this side of the brunette. All concern and care for her. She almost felt bad for letting her fall straight into her trap. _Almost._

“You never miss,” said Clarke. Lexa was close – easily within hitting range of a snowball. Her expression changed again from concern to confusion. Clarke lifted her hand that was concealing her conniving smile from her cheek and winked at Lexa. “And neither does Aden!” she yelled triumphantly.

Before Lexa knew it, she had snowballs flying towards her from her eldest Nightblood who had apparently sworn loyalty to Clarke. She couldn’t even be mad. She’d let her guard down to check if Clarke was okay, and it had cost her. The cold snow hit her all over, but she was laughing too hard to even notice the sting. She’d been outwitted by a Sky Princess and a child! Eventually, though, Aden and Clarke ran out of premade snowballs. Like a phoenix rising from the ashes, Lexa drew herself to full height and cocked her head to the side a little. Slowly, she let a smile slip onto her lips.

“Oh, you are going to pay for that,” she warned.

“Gon wor!” screamed the other Nightbloods in unison. They charged forwards, tackling Aden into the snow as he laughed and jeered, leaving Clarke for Lexa. The Commander stalked towards her and Clarke started backing away. The woman – whether she was in warpaint and her Commander getup or not – was terrifying but in a rather exhilarating way. As soon as Clarke set off at a run, Lexa was hot on her heels, and of course, she was faster, tackling Clarke into the soft snow.

Clarke didn’t know how it had happened. Well, she technically knew how they ended up in the snow, lying beside each other, covered in flakes and nearly freezing to death, but she couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment Lexa stripped herself of Heda. The brunette was laughing with her eyes closed and mouth wide open. Her hands were above her head and legs splayed out in the snow. Clarke had started laughing as soon as she’d hit the ground, but once she’d heard the melodious (and what she’d though was non-existent) laugh of Lexa’s, it rendered her silent. Such a rare sight and sound was one to be cherished. Clarke looked at her. No, she stared. She couldn’t help it. Lexa was beautiful. The Commander was striking, sharp, and stunning in a scary away, but Lexa? This goofy Lexa beside her, laughing in the snow after a very relentless snowball fight with children? This was the woman Clarke had seen in the Commander’s tent all those months ago. This was the woman who had taken Clarke in her arms and melted into her as they shared a kiss. This was the woman Clarke was surely falling in love with.

Her moment of appreciation was interrupted when Lexa let out an ‘oof’ – another uncharacteristic sound – as a small Nightblood landed on her stomach. Lexa began an attack with her fingers around the girl’s ribs, laughing as she squirmed and fought her way off her Commander. The other Nightbloods came running after them, skidding in the snow on their knees, stomachs, and backs until they fell into piles around Clarke and Lexa. The sun was quickly dipping behind the tree line and it cast an other-worldly glow onto the hill. This was the happiest Clarke had ever been. Not just on Earth, not just on the Ark, but ever. She knew she would remember this moment – this day – for the rest of her life.

With one quick glimpse at the sky, Lexa announced, “Come on, time to head back to the tower.” Despite their boisterousness in the snowball fight, all the Nightbloods obeyed without being asked twice, and dragged themselves to their feet.

Lexa stood up, brushing herself off before offering both her hands to Clarke who was still on the floor. Clarke took them, relishing in how warm they felt in her own, and let herself get pulled up onto her feet. She knew she shouldn’t have been surprised by the woman’s strength. After all, Lexa could wield a sword like it was no heavier than a pencil and bring an army to its knees with no more than a word. Yet, Clarke was impressed when she felt herself being picked up from the floor like she weighed nothing at all. The Nightbloods began their retreat to the tower, chatting between themselves. Lexa hung back a little, prompting Clarke to do the same.

“Are you okay? I really did not mean to hurt you, if I did,” said Lexa quietly. Her forest green eyes, darkened by the sky overhead, searched Clarke’s face for any signs of injury. With a small shake of her head, Clarke smiled shyly.

“Not at all,” she replied. Deciding that Clarke’s statement warranted no verbal reply, Lexa simply nodded, returning Clarke’s smile and they fell into a comfortable silence once again.

“Okay, get washed and fed, but candles out by ten tonight!” Lexa instructed to the children once they reached the main hallway in the tower.

“Sha, Heda,” chorused the Nightbloods. Lexa scowled at them all, narrowing her eyes and setting her lips in a straight line until one of them spoke up.

“Oh, we mean, Sha Leksa,” said Aden. This prompted Lexa’s scowl to change into a small, barely-there smile, but Clarke spotted it. She looked…proud. It caused Clarke’s stomach to flip.

“Reshop, Natblidas,” said Lexa.

“Reshop, Leksa. Goodnight, Clarke,” the children said in unison. With that, they turned and headed towards the elevator, marching in the same way that Lexa did. It nearly caused Clarke to chuckle at how similar they were – almost like Lexa had raised them herself.

With the Nightbloods gone, it left Clarke and Lexa alone downstairs in the main hallway. Clarke turned to face her, noticing Lexa was already looking at her. Her eyes were twinkling like she was drunk, and Clarke felt mixed emotions. She felt weightless like she was walking on air because she’d finally seen Lexa as Lexa. The woman was happy, free and rather boisterous without the weight of the World on her shoulders. However, that also meant that for the other eleven months of the year, Lexa was repressed, disallowed from truly being herself. It was bittersweet. On the one hand, she could be happy and normal, but on the other, it just showed Clarke how difficult Lexa’s life was. Nevertheless, Clarke knew how she felt about the woman. She loved Lexa, but she also loved the Commander, because she couldn’t love one without the other, and what she’d learned was that if the Commander could come out in flashes when Lexa was just being herself, that could only mean one thing. When she was the Commander, flashes of Lexa could resurface, and maybe – just maybe – Clarke could be the one to coax them out of her.

With Lexa’s eyes trained on her face, flitting between her eyes and her lips like she was battling with herself, Clarke pretended to pinch an invisible snowflake out of Lexa’s strand of hair that had fallen from her bun. Lexa’s eyes followed the movement of her hands, her breathing stopping for a long second as Clarke’s hand almost made contact with her skin. Once she’d flicked away the non-existent snowflake, Clarke’s hand remained, shifting so it could rest gently against Lexa’s cheek.

“Clarke,” Lexa’s voice was barely a whisper, but it sounded so unsure.

“I’m ready,” Clarke said in the same tone as Lexa. Lexa’s eyebrows creased in the middle as her eyes searched Clarke’s features, trying to work out what she was saying like she was a puzzle.

“You’re ready for what?” Lexa muttered. They were both afraid that if they spoke any louder, their moment would be shattered, and Clarke couldn’t afford for any of their other moments to be broken like the last one in her tent.

“I’m ready to be with someone. To be with you,” Clarke whispered, her lips breaking into a smile at the end of her sentence. Lexa’s mouth parted ever so slightly in surprise, but Clarke closed the gap before the woman could say anything else. Their lips met and it was everything like Clarke remembered, but also completely different. This time there was no uncertainty, no ghost of Finn in the back of her mind, and no fear. Lexa’s lips still tasted the same – albeit a little colder – and she still felt the same under her touch, and still held Clarke as gently as ever as they kissed. But this time, Clarke was falling freely and without fear. Finally, instead of falling into another war, she was falling in love.


End file.
